


We're In This Together

by EtuBrutus



Series: Magic, or what you will. [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 07:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtuBrutus/pseuds/EtuBrutus
Summary: 'Loyalty' was relative - you couldn't be faithful to both sides in the same war. 'Choosing' was your only choice.Morgana held a stake to her best friend's heart and kept it there. Neither one of them moved a muscle.





	We're In This Together

**MORGANA**

“...My loyalties lie with the delve.”

Morgana heard her voice echo on the deck’s vast surface. The empath stood on the damp wooden floor, her hands gripping a jagged wooden stake. Her eyes sought the those of the most wanted fugitive in the delve: Aloe. Morgana kept her face completely expressionless; an art she had mastered during her apprenticeship at the delve, though struggled to maintain now. Her best friend’s gaze bore into her eyes, before flitting to the stake about to pierce her heart.

Aloe suddenly relaxed her tensed stance, seemingly resigning herself to her fate, though Morgana knew better. The movement had been so sudden, like watching a string puppet correct itself. This had always been Aloe’s favourite strategy while training; giving her opponent a false sense of dominance. The second her partner would fall for her facade, she’d strike like a viper.

Of course, this technique was useless on Morgana. They’d practically grown up together, and, as always, the tension in Aloe’s forearms gave her away.

 

 

 

**ALOE**

Aloe rocked back and forth on her heels relaxedly, though her gaze didn’t waver from the stake for a second.  It would be humiliating, being killed with the brutish weapon. There were no pulsating runes engraved into its surface; no glyphs of epic battles painted on the sides. Just a jagged slab of wood. 

Aloe noticed the tautness of her forearms and chastised herself for it. She’d overcome the habit years ago, though it’d resurfaced the moment she’d faced her best friend on the Nightcrawler’s ship. The best friend who was currently holding a weapon to her heart. 

Of course, Aloe wasn’t the only one struggling for composure. 

Morgana’s face was set in an emotionless glare, the one that usually brought her targets to their knees. It was far too easy for Aloe to see her friend’s contempt and hesitation in the tightness of her jaw. It was undoubtedly easy for Morgana to pinpoint the tautness of her forearms. 

Their thoroughness of each other made the entire situation sickeningly worse.

  
  


 

**MORGANA**

The wooden stake felt far too heavy in her hand. The jagged edges and surface stabbed into Morgana’s hand, though the empath kept the stake in her hand steady against Aloe’s chest. 

_ ‘It’s just a little to the left from the middle of the chest. Aim properly and the process will be... _ somewhat  _ less painful.’  _ Faven’s words from the morning came back to Morgana.

The weapon was positioned perfectly. There was absolutely no need for hesitation. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Execute me,  _ Ironhild.  _ Was  _ ‘hesitation taints even the greatest success,’  _ not our first lesson?”

Aloe’s voice, usually lilting with humour, held a tinge of despair. And, more noticeable, anger.

And, if she tried hard enough, Morgana could sense a sliver of betrayal.  _ Blast my empath abilities. _

 

 

 

**ALOE**

“Killing me would be one of the Delve’s greatest successes, and so you must put aside your own personal inhibitions and stay true to your duty.” 

Aloe felt her voice begin to quaver.  _ Nobody  _ had understood duty better than her in the entire Delve. Now she would be executed for following it.

Faven and the council had granted her a ‘painless’ death without punishment, therefore glorifying their merciful nature to the inhabitants of the Delve.

Of course, they’d sent her best friend to her as the executioner. So there was  _ that.  _

Aloe could still remember Faven’s poison-green eyes staring at her, with such  _ obvious  _ glee in her eyes at the fact that she’d been sentenced to death for her insubordination. Or, in better words, insubordination under her command.

 

 

 

**MORGANA**

The empath loosened her grip on the wooden stake, moving it back so it no longer pressed into Aloe’s chest. Morgana hated Faven in that moment. The most talented Healer in the Delve had a silent, relentless prejudice against beings like Aloe.  _ ‘Blood-Phantoms,’  _ she’d called them, although she knew Aloe used blood substitutes. The woman had donned charms and totems during Morgana and Aloe’s initial training, even casting cloves of garlic in restricted areas. It was, as most delve-dwellers knew, the main reason Faven wouldn’t mentor Aloe when she’d finished her training as the most promising young healer in the Delve. 

Despite all of that, Morgana was still surprised at the fact that Faven had plotted to execute Aloe. Of course, the Council would never believe it, though Morgana was undoubtedly sure of Faven’s intent. 

When Faven, surprisingly, personally chose Aloe as the healer under her command, Morgana had sensed the woman’s forced sincerity. Perhaps due to her old age, or just to taunt her, Faven had let a sliver of glee escape through her facade, just enough for Morgana to tell the events leading to Aloe’s execution had been her doing. The woman had even  _ pleaded  _ with the council to reduce Aloe’s punishment to ‘mere death.’ At Morgana’s hands. And the council had agreed.

And not once throughout the sentencing had Morgana sensed even a sliver of guilt. It sickened her.

Her loyalties lay with the Delve, and so she’d had no choice but to take the jagged, brutish weapon from Faven that morning. And there she stood, carrying out her duty with the weapon to her best friend’s heart.

 

 

 

**ALOE**

Aloe noticed Morgana’s hesitation, though she saw no use in taking advantage of it. If Morgana failed her task, another Ironhild would take her place as Aloe’s executioner. Better surrender to her best friend now than to one of Faven’s lackeys later.

She let out her breath and let her forearms relax. Her tactic had been useless on Morgana, though she’d had shown enough hesitation to refrain from hurting her. Unsurprisingly, her hand was almost as colourless as Aloe’s as she clutched the weapon firmly in her hand.

No matter how prejudiced the Council was, or how much influence Faven held among them, Morgana’s loyalty towards the Delve wouldn’t waver as long as she held true to her pledge as an Ironhild.

The thing was, they’d both said the same thing about their friendship as trainees. It was a matter of which promise would overrule the other. 

Both of them knew this would end one of two ways. 

Right now, she could see her friend at conflict, both loyalties battling against each other. Aloe couldn’t tell which was winning. 

 

 

 

**MORGANA**

Morgana struggled against her own internal conflict. One of the downsides of being an empath was having her own extreme emotions magnified to head-throbbing extents. Right now, it felt as though she was in the middle of a dizzying battlefield.

She glared at Aloe, not in anger or guilt, but in fear that this may be the last time she saw her friend alive in front of her.

The vampire’s skin was almost completely drained of colour, leaving it a light, greyish peach. Her eyes were a dull reddish-brown, and her muscles were athletically taut. Aloe’s face was not in the least expressionless; she flaunted every one of her emotions on her face, so that, in a way, she was invulnerable to empaths and other such beings. Right now, even without sensing her emotions, Morgana could tell Aloe wasn’t predominantly angry. She looked...just sad. Her eyes held a bitter, reminiscent gaze while looking at her. 

Morgana’s internal battle raged with even more ferocity.

She couldn’t do this. Morgana looked down at the stake. She  _ couldn’t  _ choose between the two things that meant the most to her. 

In Morgana’s peripheral view, she saw Aloe’s gaze shift to behind her.

 

 

 

**ALOE**

Aloe almost screamed when she saw a glint of poison-green behind Morgana. The orbs were hidden under layers of translucent, gossamer cloaks and a hood, almost barely visible. You’d need to know precisely what you were looking for and where it was, and even then you’d probably only catch a glimpse of the green splotches.

To Aloe’s enhanced eyes, though, she could see the healer behind Morgana clearly. Faven stood silently, underneath her layers of shimmering clothes. She watched with disguised amusement, though her poison-green eyes were fixated on Morgana. More specifically, Morgana’s weapon.

Aloe felt a pang of fear, despite her efforts to contain her feelings. She instinctively glanced at Morgana, hoping the empath would pass off the sensed emotion as Aloe’s fear of losing her life, but Aloe doubted it. Morgana  _ knew  _ her, and fear was definitely not one of Aloe’s regular emotions. However, her friend continued to stare at her weapon.

Aloe would have to make a choice before Faven made hers. One that would save Morgana, or another which would end them both.

She made her choice when she saw the malice in Faven’s eyes.

 

 

 

**MORGANA**

Morgana’s battle continued, never slogging for a moment. She’d almost missed the heart-skipping wave of fear coming from Aloe.

Almost.

The empath’s eyes snapped back to Aloe, who looked pained. Her eyes had darted back to her. Morgana held her breath as she felt waves of emotion roll towards her from Aloe, as well as seeing it painted onto the vampire's face. She was pained and happy and miserable and depressed and tired and distressed and regretful and relieved and- Morgana had to tune out the flurry of emotions Aloe was sending her to prevent another headache.

Morgana made her decision. She moved her hand, along with the weapon, away from Aloe and lowered the stake to her side.

“Aloe, I...I can’t do this to you. You could come back with me! We can explain everything to the council-” desperate words spilled out of her, though she knew none of them were true. Morgana was silenced when Aloe took her hand in hers. It was the hand with the stake. Aloe’s colourless hand gripped hers tightly and raised it until it was level with their chests.

They shared a moment of silence. No waves of emotion, no analyzing. The two friends stood with each other, hand grasped in hand. Aloe spoke at last, in her usual lilting, humourous voice, 

“Stay true to your duty to the Delve. They don’t deserve you.”

Before Morgana could comprehend what she’d said, Aloe twisted Morgana’s hand and lunged forward.

Morgana screamed as the wooden stake plunged into her best friend’s heart.

 


End file.
